Yes, You Are
by kaahiescheck
Summary: Set in The Break-up: before Blaine flies to New York, he just has to tell Burt. He simply has to, even though it's going to kill him a little bit more.


**I swear, this is the last depressing fic for now. But I figured Blaine would have talked to Burt face to face, 'cause even after everything, Burt was still very much of a Klainer, so there has to have been something. I hope I did it justice.**

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_He's not gonna shoot you. He's not gonna shoot you. He's not gonna shoot you._

That thought usually helped whenever Blaine had something very serious to talk to Burt and it was true for most of the time. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. He didn't know what to expect – yelling, a punch, disappointment, maybe all three, maybe more, maybe a bullet through his body. Maybe. Who knew? It _was_ a possibility.

Blaine tried to swallow as he parked his car outside of the Hudmel residence. He felt sick. Sicker than he had ever felt. He could still feel hands all over him, and a mouth, and they weren't Kurt's, and he felt like vomiting and then scrubbing his skin until the disgusting feeling was gone. But maybe it never would.

As opened the door and got out, he reminded himself he owed Burt this. Sure, maybe the man should hear it from Kurt, but Blaine couldn't bear with that thought. He knew how bad he'd screwed up, and if there was anything noble he could still do, that was telling Burt himself, face to face, right before flying to New York to tell Kurt.

Just thinking of that made his sickness increase considerably.

Since he had already booked the plane ticket, he forced himself to knock on the door. He couldn't be late, and he still didn't know what to expect from the conversation. Maybe it would last a few seconds, maybe it would last an hour. Maybe he would get shot.

The door opened, interrupting his little internal freak out. Carole smiled at him, but, as quickly as it came, it went away when she saw his face. _That's_ how he was sure of the complete mess he was, if it only took people one second to notice.

"Hello, Carole," Blaine managed to get out, not even attempting shoot her a smile. _Oh, God, shoot. No, he isn't gonna do it_. "Is… is Burt back from the tire shop yet? Please tell me he is."

"Yes, honey," she answered frowning. "He's in the living room, come in. Is everything okay?"

He wanted to respond; really, he hated being impolite, especially to Carole, someone who he adored so much. But as she tried to get him out of his jacket, he had to shrug her off and go straight to the point, "I just need to talk to him."

She hesitated. "Okay. Well, just go in."

Blaine did. His legs took him to the living room – at least he managed _that_. That is, until he spotted Burt on his armchair and felt his body leaving him. Trying to act casual, he leaned on the doorframe and gave a tight smile when Burt looked up at him.

"Hey, Blaine, what's up?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "I-I just really need to talk to you about something." Things were so bad, he almost didn't acknowledge that he himself had actually spoken.

Burt frowned, obviously catching on his current state as Carole had. "Well, come sit, then. Is everything okay?"

Carefully, as if any wrong movement could give away everything and then he'd be shot to death, Blaine made his way inside and took a spot on the couch, fiddling nervously with his hands. He realized he still hadn't answered the question and almost automatically said everything was fine before he remembered what he was here for.

"No, Mr. Hummel," he weakly said, staring at the floor and slipping back into last name basis. Usually, the man would have corrected him, as he had to do when he and Kurt had started dating and he was being "too formal". Now, though, Burt didn't bother. He most likely felt the mood of the conversation wasn't going to be light.

"Did something happen to Kurt?"

Sensing his tone, Blaine quickly added, "No, no! He's okay." He sighed miserably. "At least for now he is. I'm pretty sure he won't be in a bit."

Blaine wasn't sure if this was the best way to approach the topic; probably not, but he had to start somewhere; even if that somewhere was confusing and worrying Burt entirely with his vague sentences and odd behavior.

He was running short of breath by now, almost hyperventilating, and Burt was getting seriously concerned. Blaine figured that, if he was ever going to get this out of his throat, he would have to do it quickly, like tearing off a Band-Aid. His eyes were pooled with tears that had never really left as he took one last terribly shaky breath before blurting out, "I cheated."

A horrible silence followed. It was so suffocating, and Blaine was already choking on absolutely nothing, that he felt he might die just there. Never mind being shot. Everything was too overwhelming, and his body couldn't take more of it.

"What?" Burt quietly asked, so silently that Blaine couldn't make out the tone behind it – or maybe that was due to his brain just generally collapsing –, and he didn't dare make eye contact.

"I was with someone, just now," Blaine choked out, then took another deep breath. He _needed _to get this out, even if he was going to do it by rambling while holding back sobs. "It didn't mean anything; I barely knew the guy. I still love Kurt so much, but I got…" He choked again. And tried again. "I got so lonely and despaired and I clinched to the affection I got, and I'm pretty much dying right now. I already booked plane tickets, so I'll be flying to New York in a couple of hours. I just…" He paused to try one more time to recollect himself and forced his eyes to meet Burt's. "I needed you to hear this from me."

He was met with silence. Horrible, horrible silence, which he had to fill.

"I know I broke your trust and disappointed you, and I can only imagine Kurt's reaction is gonna finish killing me, but… If you are gonna shoot me or something, I'm just gonna stay right here and make it hurt the most. I –"

"Kid," Burt interrupted, raising his hand. "I'm not gonna shoot you. You said you are flying to New York tonight, and that's the _very_ least you can do, so I'm not gonna stop you." He paused, probably holding himself from screaming. "I also appreciate it that you came here to talk to me personally. But _right now_, I really think you should go."

Blaine's breath caught, which he didn't think was possible, since he didn't think he was breathing at all. He was going to add something else, but he took a closer look at Burt's eyes and saw what laid there. It was taking everything the man had not to beat the living crap out of him. So Blaine figured he really should be going.

He took some time to make his legs function again and take him out, only stopping at the door frame again and turning back. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you have to apologize to."

"Yes, you are, as well." And with that, Blaine left the house.


End file.
